


One Wing Failing

by Capucine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Wings, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mates, Wingtalia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 09:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4473476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capucine/pseuds/Capucine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where half the population has wings and an industrial revolution is underway, Germany lives in a small village with his brothers, their betrothed mates, and a cousin or two under the watchful eye of his Grandfather, Germania. However, what happens when his cousin, Nyotalia Austria, makes a bid for love and flees for the big city? What will happen to those who enter the place frothing with change? </p><p>Only time can tell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Wing Failing

**Author's Note:**

> So, the basic idea is that child-bearing folks, male or female, do not have wings. Seed-bearing ones, male or female, do. I hope you like this, and the USUK will show up a bit later, along with other pairings. Enjoy!
> 
> Names:  
> Nyo Liechtenstein = Franz  
> Saxony = Fritz  
> Hesse = Emmerich  
> Germania = Anshelm  
> Nyo Austria = Sophie

Sometimes, Ludwig thought it was a strange world they were born into. He wondered what it was like to not fly, like the childbearing half of the population, which was born without wings, like some maimed, poor soul.

He'd always wanted to take little Franz, his mate-to-be, up into the sky, but even with his magnificent wingspan he couldn't lift Franz too easily and besides which, he was sure Franz would panic and fall, squirming out of his grip.

He knew this story was one told again and again, and even visited upon him personally. Fritz, his brother, had his tall betrothed, Yong Soo, who pleaded again and again to be brought up into the sky. So finally, Fritz had relented, and held tightly to his lover's wrists as he took him into the sky. Their hands got sweaty, Yong Soo lost his head, and slipped free of Fritz's grip.

There was no need to add he did not survive. No one did in these stories.

Fritz had been lonely ever since, even considering having his wings taken off for the pain they'd brought him. He would not take a new mate.

So, Franz was not going up in the sky. Ludwig loved him too much to do such a thing.

He walked through the wide doorway of the family home, a full brood of boys and their mates. Anshelm, their grandfather, was the one who cared for them all. His massive wingspan had lead to him being likened to a roc, a huge mythical bird that could carry off elephants.

But Anshelm was also kind at times, and today, he was sitting with Fritz and braiding his long hair. Both had long hair, as did Emmerich, his scarred brother, and several others.

Grandfather Anshelm looked up as Ludwig, the youngest of his grandsons, entered. “Good afternoon. Where have you been?”

“I was returning with firewood; it's in the woodshed,” Ludwig said with a nod, heading for the table. Sometimes, he sort of wished his hair was long too; but then he remembered Gilbert's thoughts on that, and he was the brother he most looked up to.

Gilbert was a strange one. He prided himself on being able to fight, and he said that long hair was easy to grab and then you had the person mostly under your control. That didn't stop Emmerich from being an even better fighter than Gilbert, in some ways, but Ludwig had still taken the words to heart.

Anshelm had gone back to braiding, Fritz still in the throes of grief. They were not an over-affectionate clan, but they did care for each other. It may have been months, but Grandfather Anshelm still allowed Fritz to be in grief, to not take another mate yet, to withdraw from a lot of the village life.

He would come back. That was something they were all sure of.

“Have you seen Franz?” Ludwig asked, wanting to find the boy who would one day be his mate. One thing Grandfather Anshelm was careful about was the age of a mating. While the childbearing one could carry as young as twelve, he was very adamant that they wait til at least eighteen. He said their mother had worn out her body having so many so young.

“He should be in the garden,” Anshelm said, delicately braiding a complex plait. “You know how he often likes to poke around the vegetables.”

Ludwig nodded. He got a glass of water from their pump, which was connected to a well below, and then went out to find Franz.

They were living in a grand age, even if their small trading village was on the edge of it. He heard that in the city, there were lights that went on without a flame, massive machines that moved people along the ground, trains on rails, flying machines, expertly tailored to give the childbearing population flight and based so heavily on the natural flight of the winged.

He heard that they had so much food, they threw out the extra.

Of course, his family had plenty of food. With the new crops introduced a century ago, such as potatoes, food had never been more abundant, he was told, and this was why so many people had so many children.

Franz was indeed in the garden, watering some of the vine vegetables. He was small boy, only about fifteen years of age but so much more slight than others. His hair was cropped to below his chin, a shiny blond, and his starched white shirt and his neatly pressed short-pants were so typical of his cleanliness.

“Franz,” Ludwig said, glad to greet his love. “How are you doing today?”

Franz turned, smiling. “Hello! I'm doing well, as is the garden. I even got some flowers blooming by the wrap-around bench! Lilies, pink and purple and orange. How are you doing, Ludwig?”

Ludwig smiled, wrapping his arms around Franz's shoulders and pressing a kiss to his forehead. He would not do much more; they were far too proper for that in this village.

Franz giggled, wrapping his arms around Ludwig's waist. “Come on, bend down, I want to kiss your forehead!”

Ludwig obliged, tilting his head down and allowing Franz’s soft lips to press there. They would not kiss on the lips any time soon; it was still far too early in the relationship, at least to both Ludwig and Grandfather Anshelm, and the last thing that Ludwig wanted was for Franz to be hurt.

That was about when Emmerich showed up. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said cheerfully, wings fluttering a little in the breeze, “But we need to find Sophie. She’s being an ass again.”

Sophie was a cousin who lived with them. She was a childbearer, and prone to drama.

Ludwig’s brows furrowed. “How so?”

“Well... she’s running away to her lover. You know, Elisaveta.” Emmerich looked like this news was as palateable to him as the idea that eating soap would make him stronger.

Ludwig cursed, letting Franz go. “You mean Elisaveta, as in the one who went to the city for better employment?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Emmerich shrugged. “Grandfather Anshelm is going to flip.”

And good god, with a move like this, there was no way that Ludwig could blame him. Sophie was going to get more than earful once they found her.


End file.
